


Broken

by justanotherbookworm78



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Comfort, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbookworm78/pseuds/justanotherbookworm78
Summary: One-shot set after Olivia's mom passes away. Olivia is spiraling down, and Elliot is there to help her pick up the pieces.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first story I ever posted for the SVU fandom, originally published on FF dot net in April of 2019. Finally getting around to sharing it here. Though part of me has often considered editing the story and changing it for content purposes, I've opted not to, keeping it in it's original form so I can look back and see how much I have grown as a writer with every story I work on.

Disclaimer: Law and Order SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. I'm only borrowing them. I make no money from this work of fiction.

Summary: One-shot takes place after Olivia's mom dies. She is spiraling down, and Elliot is there to pick up the pieces.

* * *

A crash from inside startled him as he raised his hand to knock. Using the key he kept strictly for emergencies, he let himself in and raced around to the kitchen to find Olivia sitting on the floor amidst a pile of shattered glasses and plates. Sweeping his eyes around the room, he spotted an empty bottle of wine sitting on the counter, a second bottle open next to it. He carefully made his way over to her, and crouched down near where she sat amongst the broken shards. She looked up at him with glassy eyes as though she didn't really see him.

Casting her eyes away, she spoke aloud, almost to herself “I need to clean this up” then proceeded to sweep the pieces together and pick them up with her bare hands, not even registering when the shards pricked and pierced her skin. He called her name once, twice even; but got no response. He watched helplessly as she in a trance-like state, picked up a particularly large piece of glass and held it tightly in her palm. Her fingers closed into a fist around it, watching in fascination as deep red drops of blood began to drip from her palm. What could only have taken moments, felt as though he were watching something in slow-motion. Snapping into action, he called out to her. “Shit! Liv! Liv! Olivia!”

At the use of her full name her eyes returned to his, but she pulled her hand and the glass closer to her reflexively. When she did finally speak, her voice was so soft that he had to lean in closer to hear her. “It hurts El.” She squeezed her fist tighter around the shard of glass, blood dripping now in earnest and running down her wrist. Reaching behind him for a clean dish towel, he gently pried her fist away from where she held it close to her shoulder, and laid it on his knee. He lightly ran his fingers over the back of her hand in an attempt to get her to loosen her grip. When she did, he opened her hand, carefully removed the glass and placed the towel against the wound, immediately wrapping a second towel around it tightly to keep pressure. How long they sat there with his hands holding hers, he did not know, but when he looked at her again, she met his gaze, making eye contact for the first time since he entered her apartment. Her brown eyes had a haunted look to them, and he could smell the alcohol on her breath. Hiccuping, she spoke again “ My mom's dead El, she's gone” he lifted one of his hands to stroke her cheek, answered with a softly spoken, “I know”. Whether it was his gentle touch or his words, it was at that moment that something inside of her broke, and Olivia Benson shattered into a million pieces, not unlike the shards of glass that surrounded her. The floodgates had been opened. She turned her head into the crook of his shoulder, her fists clutched desperately at his shirt, and she wept.

Acting on the protective instinct that he based his life on, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, placed the other under her knees, and picked her up to carry her the short distance from the kitchen to the living room sofa. He sat next to her, and held her as she cried a lifetime of tears she had been holding back. Tears for her mother, for herself, for the mother/daughter relationship she wished they'd had. He continued to hold her hand to keep pressure applied to the wound, and just let her cry, hoping the tears would find a way to heal her heart as well as her soul.

After a time, her tears eventually gave way to the utter exhaustion that comes with being completely heartbroken. Olivia's head fell to her partners shoulder, and she began to mutter some words that didn't make sense, but the last ones he heard before she collapsed against him in sleep were “My mom is dead, and it's all my fault...it's always been my fault.”

When he was certain she was asleep, he picked her up again, and carried her now to the bedroom; laying her on the bed. Keeping the bedside lamp on, he quickly gathered the first aid supplies necessary, and a damp cloth. First he bathed her face, wiping away the tears and soothing her brow and face. Once he had dampened the cloth once more, he returned to sit on the side of the bed, and placed her injured hand in his lap once more. He removed the bandages, and tenderly wiped away the blood, making certain no glass was left in the palm of her hand, then applied some butterfly bandages to stitch it together before bandaging the entire palm with gauze. He lifted her hand up to his lips to place a delicate kiss to her palm over the bandage, then returned it to lay next to her on the bed.

Elliot stood up, and gathered his supplies to return them to the medicine cabinet, coming back with some aspirin to set on her bedside table, which he set down along with a bottle of water he had grabbed from the refrigerator. He knew she would need it when she woke. Picking up the blanket from the bottom of the bed, he draped it gently over his sleeping partner, ensuring she would be warm enough throughout the night. “Sleep well, Liv” he whispered to her, placing a kiss on her temple before heading back out to the sofa in the living room. He was not about to leave her alone tonight.


End file.
